


Tidings of Comfort and Snapes

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione has an errand on Christmas Eve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tidings of Comfort and Snapes

Hermione wished it would snow. Perhaps the presence of fluffy white flakes, ghosting down from the leaden December sky, would have helped soften the dingy browns and greys where rows of rundown houses with front gates listing on rusty hinges and weed-choked front gardens staggered towards the High Street. 

It began to sleet instead.

How could he have left her like this?

She stopped at number sixty-one. At least here, she noticed, the front door wasn't scuffed and scarred.

Gryffindor bravery firmly in hand, she rang the bell. 

"Yes, dear?" A solid matron asked in answer to her ring.

"I'm… I'm here to see Eileen Snape."

* * *

The solid woman ushered Hermione into an alarmingly clean and cheerful parlor where, before a crackling fire, sat a dour witch with stringy hair, frowning at the television in the corner.

Carols poured from the box as small choirboys filed into a lofty cathedral nave.

"Mrs Snape?"

"Who are you and what do you want?" Eileen jerked her attention from the screen to scowl at Hermione. 

"I'm… I'm Hermione Granger," she replied. "I'm a student, a former student, that is, of your son."

"Oh?"

"I'm afraid…" Hermione began, "I'm afraid I have bad news about Professor… about Sever- about your son."

"Spit it out, girl! Robbie Williams is going to sing Glen Miller after this!"

Hermione wished the floor would open beneath her. What had possessed her to deliver the news on Christmas Eve? Oh, yes, Harry's insistence that the news be broken. 

She was going to kill Harry.

* * *

"Your son… Your son's dead, Mrs Snape. I'm so sorry. We tried to find you after the Battle, but we couldn't, and then the body was lost and…"

Hermione trailed off in dismay as Eileen threw back her head and laughed. 

"Good Merlin, girl!" she cackled. "What makes you think Severus is dead? Are you feeble?"

"I… I saw him die," Hermione stammered, blushing.

"Did you now, Miss Granger?" an all-too-familiar voice interrupted Hermione.

"Yes! And we tried to find you sooner, but you're hidden rather well."

In the doorway stood a live Severus Snape. True, he was leaning on a cane, and true, his throat was bandaged, but he was _alive_.

"Not well enough, apparently," 

"What…" Hermione boggled. "You're supposed to be dead!"

"Supposed to, yes. I do so hate to be a foregone conclusion, but in this case, I don't think I can oblige you," Snape growled, limping into the room. 

"We _mourned_ you!" Hermione cried indignantly. 

"I'm sure you did. Now sit down and be quiet; Mum gets cross if she misses her Glen Miller Christmas tribute."

Head spinning, Hermione sank to the cheerfully pattered sofa as the solid matron - Nurse Hathaway - she discovered - brought in the tea things.

"Shall I pour out?" offered Snape.

Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or laugh. 

"Hobnob?" Eileen offered politely.

Hermione decided instead that she was dreaming.

* * *

The next day, Hermione hovered near the front door, waiting for her guests.

"Why won't you tell us?" demanded Ron, planting an affectionate kiss on her cheek in deference to the mistletoe hovering in the hall. "Who's the mystery guest?"

"It's going to be a surprise," Hermione said, shifting impatiently from foot to foot. "Now go away; I don't want to scare them off!"

"Mental," muttered Ron, wandering back downstairs to haunt the kitchen, where his mum was working her magic.

Not a moment too soon, Hermione saw a man and woman walking towards the house.

"They're here," she whispered, stomach tightening in excitement.

* * *

"Where is everybody?" demanded Snape, taking his mother's coat and glaring around the hall.

"Downstairs, helping Molly, or in the library, having drinks by the tree. I thought that you'd prefer not to be bombarded," replied Hermione.

"Humph," grunted Snape. "First glimmer of sense I've seen from you."

"Severus," Eileen interjected.

" _What_ , mother?"

Eileen pointed up and Hermione followed her finger. 

Snape grew deathly pale.

Hermione turned bright red.

"Miss Granger," Snape said in a low voice, "I apologize. Profusely."

"I… what?" Whatever else Hermione was about to stammer was cut off as Snape bent and gently kissed her.

* * *

The remainder of the evening was a stunning success. At least, Hermione supposed that it was. All of the exultation and welcome that the Snapes received was completely overshadowed by the memory of Professor Snape's lips upon hers. 

_Maybe I should call him Severus. No, he'd probably hex me._

Hermione need not have worried. Harry was apoplectic with joy, Molly and Minerva effusive with relief, and the rest of the Order equally enthusiastic. 

Eileen seemed pleased to see her son's contribution so honored and kept her acerbic remarks to a minimum.

But all Hermione noticed was Snape. 

_How long has he had such lovely hands?_

_His voice is still intoxicating, especially when he's being gracious. How did **that** happen?_

_I'm such an idiot; I should have known he'd have antivenin. Lucky for us that he did._

* * *

"I suppose I ought to thank you," Snape remarked as evening drew nigh. Hermione had escaped to the library to gather her wits, only to discover Snape there first.

"Thank me?"

"You've managed to achieve what my mother has been trying to for the last seven months."

"Achieve?"

"I've spent the last months being scolded. She seemed to think I ought to be out in the public eye, that I was a hero and deserved to be acknowledged as such, and not spend the rest of my days hiding with her. Apparently the _Prophet_ had been making much of my contribution to the defeat of the Dark Lor- Voldemort. Lies, no doubt, bruited about by Potter's puppy-like enthusiasm."

"Well, we didn't realize until much later that…"

"As it is, Granger," Snape cut her off, "she was right. You were right. And…"

"And?"

"And I appreciate it," he bit out the words. "I appreciate, for once, being alive."

Hermione smiled.

"I'm glad, Profes- Severus."

His eyebrow quirked. 

"I don't recall giving you leave to call me by my given name."

Hermione blushed and stared at the floor.

_I was right, he's going to hex me now. Goddess, make it end quickly!_

"I'm… I'm sorry, sir."

"But," he continued, leaning towards her, "I don't believe that I object to hearing it come from your lips."

Hermione felt herself blushing all the more as a finger crept beneath her chin urging her head up.

"They are, after all, rather kissable lips. And any woman who has the mettle to conspire with my mother to force me out of my 'death' to attend a Christmas party thrown by Molly Weasley must be worth kissing."

As Snape kissed her again, Hermione wondered where he'd been hiding his sense of humor. As her mouth opened to his and she wrapped her arms around his neck, she decided it didn't matter one bit.

* * *

 **AN:** Not mine, no money. Thanks to Bluestocking and Subversa for making this readable!


End file.
